


Troubles by the score

by iriswallpaper



Series: Heartaches By The Number [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cheating, Emotional Infidelity, Infidelity, John and Mary's Wedding, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Mutual Pining, Pining, Season/Series 03, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Being an Asshole, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Wedding Planning, everyone is morally bankrupt, scenes in between/concurrent with S3 on-screen events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:16:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iriswallpaper/pseuds/iriswallpaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has some ideas to subtly put his stamp on John and Mary’s big day. Stamps like only Sherlock Holmes could pull off.</p><p>Scene-based fics that are concurrent with events in S3. This is not an S3 fix-it fic.</p><p>HEED THE TAGS because everyone is morally bankrupt in this fic.</p><p>Title from the song "Heartaches by the Number," a popular country song written by Harlan Howard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Troubles by the score

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed so please forgive my errors.
> 
> Thank you to UrbanHymnal for ideas of ways Sherlock could mess with the wedding plans!

_Heartaches by the number, troubles by the score_  
_Everyday you love me less, each day I love you more_  
_Yes, I've got heartaches by the number, a love that I can't win_  
_But the day that I stop counting, that's the day my world will end._

 

It was early on a sunny afternoon. Mary and Sherlock stood in the middle of a bright, empty reception hall. The walls were painted a garish yellow with murals of vines and birds meandering along their length. Sherlock spun around to take it all in, coattail swirling, then stopped facing Mary and assessed her in the context of the surroundings. She looked washed out - yellow really wasn’t her color. The harsh afternoon light streaming through the overabundant French doors highlighted every line in Mary’s face, betraying her age. He closed his eyes and mentally placed John in the hall. Yellow would complement John's coloring and bring out the flecks of gold in his eyes. 

He grinned his ‘it’s Christmas’ grin. “This is perfect, Mary. It suits you.”

Mary brightened. She’d been drooping, exhausted after the morning of Sherlock running her around to two other reception venues. ‘Lunch’ had been stops at two different caterers to taste their offerings. John had been called into work to cover for another doctor who called in sick, but he’d insisted that Mary and Sherlock keep all the appointments they’d scheduled for the day. And since he just went along with anything they suggested about the wedding, Mary had agreed. Mary had a headache from tasting six different wines and four different champagnes along with the food. Sherlock, on the other hand, had exuded a nearly manic energy all day. They had other stops scheduled to round out the day but Mary decided if Sherlock said this room suited her, it was good enough for her.

She smiled. “Let’s book it then. I don’t need to see the others. This one’s perfect.”

Sherlock’s grin widened. 

~*~

A cigarette burned between Sherlock’s fingers as he shuffled through the wedding files on his desk. He took a long drag when he found what he was looking for - the file on the dresses. He pulled out the order for the bridesmaid dresses, then pulled up the dress manufacturer’s website. He quickly found the pages that showed the color options for the dress styles and clicked through each before he found what he was looking for: hues of lilac and lavender that didn’t quite clash, but also didn’t quite go together. 

He grinned in satisfaction. One quick phone call should do the trick. He stubbed out the cigarette with one hand while he dialed with the other.

“Hello, this is Sherlock Holmes, calling for Mary Morstan. Yes, quite well, thank you. I’m afraid Miss Morstan has had a change of heart. Is it too late to make changes to the bridesmaid dresses?”

The sardonic grin widened when Sherlock heard that it was still possible to make modifications.

“Excellent. Miss Morstan has decided to go with a two-color scheme. She’s decided to change the maid of honor dress to “lilac blossom.” Yes, I know it’s only one shade difference, but you know how much little things matter to a bride for her big day.” Sherlock stifled a laugh with his hand over his mouth. “Yes, good. And for the bridesmaids, she’s decided on “lavender dream.” Yes, she’s quite sure they will compliment each other.”

Sherlock paused while the dress shop representative suggested changing the bows on the bridesmaid dresses to “lilac blossom” to tie the two colors together. He closed his eyes and imagined the awful combination. “Perfect. That’s an excellent suggestion. I’m sure Miss Morstan will agree. And while we’re at it, let’s add another foot of fabric to those bows, just to make them a statement piece.”

~*~

The catering manager picked up on the first ring. “Hello, this is Stephen’s Fine Catering. Jason speaking.”

“Hello, Jason, this is Sherlock Holmes calling for Mary Morstan. I’m afraid we have to make some changes in the selections for the Morstan-Watson wedding. You haven’t placed orders for supplies yet, have you?”

“No, it’s still early for that. Hold on, let me pull up your event.”

Sherlock tapped his index finger against his front teeth while he waited.

“Here you go, I’ve got it now. What changes will you need?”

“I’m afraid Miss Morstan went a little over budget in her selections. She wonders if you could perhaps cut back a little on the prime rib’s grade. Something still flavorful, but perhaps a bit more budget friendly.” Sherlock heard keys clicking over the mobile connection.

“Yes, I can downgrade the prime rib. Right now you’ve selected Aberdeen Angus. We can save you a little money by ordering a Welsh Beef instead. It’s not as tender, but still nicely marbled. If we cook it rare, it should be fine.”

Sherlock paused to consider. “Yes, that’s fine. But the groom prefers more well done beef. Medium, at the least, even tending to medium well.”

“I’m afraid it might be a little on the tough side to cook a Welsh Beef prime rib medium well.”

“Needs must. I’m afraid Aberdeen Angus is just out of the budget. I’m sure the Welsh Beef will be fine, even medium well.” More keys clicked in the background. Sherlock waited. “And the wine. I’m afraid the bride was a little exuberant picking that, too. Now that she’s reviewed the wedding budget, it seems a stretch.”

“If you’ll remember, Mr. Holmes, I tried to steer her toward red with the beef. But she complained that she doesn’t like red wine. The riesling really is the best white to pair with prime rib.” The catering manager sounded close to the end of his rope.

“Yes, I agree Jason. But you know how brides can be about their dream wedding. Miss Morstan still insists on riesling, but we will have to pick a less expensive brand. Can you help with that?”

Jason rattled off brands and prices while Sherlock took notes. 

“Excellent, thank you so much Jason. I’ll pick up a few bottles today and have Miss Morstan try them. I’ll call you tomorrow with her final selection. Now, the champagne for the toast. We’d chosen a brut but I’m afraid Miss Morstan now would like to change to a sweet variety. Yes, I know, it won’t be as pleasing to the discerning palate. Yes, but you know how brides get. ” Sherlock had to stifle another laugh with his hand.

“Well, Mr. Holmes, we do offer a few budget sparking wines. I’d suggest the La Spinetta if Miss Morstan wants sweet. It’s as sweet as they come.”

“Excellent. Put us down for double portions of the La Spinetta. Now, about the bread. We’d chosen whole grain baguette. Could we save a little by switching to traditional white dinner rolls?”

Jason sighed. “Well, you could, Mr. Holmes, but with the other changes, perhaps our top of the line bread could make up for some of the other quality shortcuts.”

“I assure you, Jason, I have faith that your chefs will turn out a top quality meal even with these changes. White dinner rolls will have to do.”

“Alright, I’ll just email the confirmation to Miss Morstan and we’ll be all set.”

Sherlock opened a new tab on his laptop quickly. “Oh, she’s changed her email address. Set up one specifically for the wedding plans, so she doesn’t miss anything important in her inbox.” He created new gmail account while he spoke. “Here you go, it’s MaryMPerfectWedding@gmail.com. You can email the confirmation to that address. I’ll make sure she responds promptly.”

“Okay Mr. Holmes. And make sure she gets back to me about the wine. I’ll have to place that order soon.”

Sherlock smiled darkly. “Oh, she will get back to you right away.”

~*~

Five bottles of cheap white wine sat in a line on the kitchen table. Sherlock knew he couldn’t do something as gross as order Gallo or Blue Nun or Mary would be sure to notice. He needed to pick a wine that was awful without being too obviously cheap.

Mrs. Hudson hadn’t been up for a while so all the glasses were in the sink, dirty. He washed one quickly, dried it, then sat down at the table. He’d been careful to pick corked varieties. Even in the excitement of her wedding reception, Mary would surely notice if the waiters were pouring wine from screw-top bottles.

The first wasn’t too bad, even to Sherlock's discerning taste buds. He recorked it and sat it aside. The next two were bland and overly sweet. The fourth was ghastly and he placed it upside down in the sink, knowing it was too much off the wine Mary had picked for his scheme to work. The fifth was perfect. Just what he was looking for: oversweet without being sickening, slightly flat with a hint of a harsh ending. He picked up the bottle and examined the label. It was innocuous enough that Mary would never notice it wasn’t the label she’d picked, especially in the bustle and excitement of her wedding reception.

Sherlock picked up his phone and logged into “Mary’s” new email account. He typed out an email confirming the changes Jason had sent earlier and changing the wine selection to Washington Hills Riesling.

 

~*~

John had fallen asleep on the sofa while Mary and Sherlock sat hunched over the guest list at the desk. 

“Why do you need to know so much information about each guest?” Mary sounded tired.

“I want to ensure we select the perfect combination of guests at each table to give each an enjoyable evening. Since I don’t know many of these people, I can’t deduce who would enjoy whom. So, tell me more about Beatrice Smyth-Hobbs.”

Mary sighed and rattled off facts about her coworker Beatrice. The line of questioning continued for over an hour with Mary describing guests and Sherlock transcribing onto his laptop at lightening speed.

“Sherlock, I’m exhausted. You know everyone else on the list. Can we please just order dinner now? John, wake up!” Mary called the last phrase over her shoulder. John stirred. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I swear, Sherlock, you wear my future husband out.” Sherlock glanced at Mary sharply. She grinned. “You two and your late nights!”

John stood. “You can’t blame it all on Sherlock. Takes two, you know.”

Sherlock looked from one to the other. Did either of them intend the double entendre? John did, he was sure. Did Mary even know her words carried a double meaning? Her bright smile and clear gaze told him no, she did not.

“Alright, I believe I have all the information I need. I will draw up the seating plan later.” Sherlock gave Mary one of his fake-bright smiles.

John was already on the phone with the corner Chinese takeout before Sherlock had even stopped speaking. Sherlock and Mary tidied the wedding files while they waited for dinner to be delivered. John went downstairs when the bell rang while Mary retrieved plates from the kitchen.

“Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you,” Sherlock began while they ate. “The dress shop called. It seems the bridesmaids’ dresses are out of stock in your color choice. I went over the available options and picked a darker shade of lilac for the maid of honor and a lavender for the bridesmaids.” The blatant lie rolled off Sherlock’s tongue effortlessly. “I knew you wouldn't mind if I chose. They needed an answer right away to ensure the dresses arrive on time.”

Mary looked rather flummoxed. “Well, I guess, if they needed an answer right away.”

With another slick grin, Sherlock nodded. “I also told them to make the bow on the bridesmaid dresses the same lilac as the maid of honor’s dress. It will should all tie together nicely.”

“Uh, okay. If you think that works,” Mary conceded.

“Excellent.” 

 

Later that night, Sherlock studied the notes he'd taken earlier. He drew diagrams on a yellow legal pad, crossing out names and adding others until he was satisfied.

“There’” he murmured to himself in the quiet of his flat, “The perfect combination at each table to ensure no one can relax and have a good time.” 

He sat back clicked the laptop closed with a bitter smile.

~*~

Sherlock exited a cab in front of a florist shop. Mary was already waiting outside. He kissed her cheek in greeting then held the door for her to enter while he drew out a typed sheet from his breast pocket.

“Here you go, I thoroughly researched flower language and the meanings behind flowers commonly used in wedding arrangements. I think you’ll find my suggestions acceptable.”

“Oh, Sherlock, you’ve outdone yourself. I just want to pick something that is pretty.” Mary smiled and wrinkled her nose at him.

“Really, Mary, that’s rather plebeian. The language of flowers has evolved for centuries and is especially meaningful in the context of weddings. And funerals. But we’re here to talk about your wedding.” Sherlock smiled.

A florist approached them and showed them to a desk. He introduced himself as Harold and fetched a thick notebook of sample pictures. Within minutes, Harold and Sherlock were immersed in discussion of the merits and drawbacks of each flower on Sherlock’s list. Bored, Mary scrolled her phone and barely listened. 

After an hour, Harold presented the typed up order for Mary’s approval. “White roses for purity, cornflowers for fidelity, Sweet William for masculinity and gallantry. Calla lilies for fertility - those are very popular in weddings these days. And green carnations for…”

“Yes, whatever.” Mary cut him off. “It’s fine. If Sherlock likes it, it’s fine with me.” 

Harold glanced at Sherlock with raised eyebrows. Sherlock winked and gave him a half-smile.

“Alright, Miss Morstan. I guess that settles it.”

Mary nodded and picked up her purse. “I need to run. See you later, Sherlock. And thanks for your help, Harold.” She rose and exited the shop before Sherlock and Harold could even get to their feet.

“I need her signature on the final order,” Harold said, dismayed.

Sherlock smiled at him reassuringly. “It’s fine, give it here. I can sign.”

“You really think she’s okay with the green carnations?”

Sherlock smiled broadly. “I think she’s going to love it all.”

~*~

Another call to a dress shop. This time, to the shop making Mary’s wedding gown.

“Hello, Sherlock Holmes calling for Mary Morstan. Yes, everything’s fine. I just need to let you know that Miss Morstan has decided on different shoes for the wedding. Yes, I know she’s already had the final fitting, but she’s changed her mind. Her new bridal shoes are two inches taller than the ones she wore for the fitting.”

Sherlock barely listened to the shop rep natter on with objections. 

“Yes, you are right, but you know how brides get when the wedding day’s drawing near. Can you please add two inches to the skirt of her wedding gown? Yes, I’m quite sure, the heels of the new shoes are two inches taller.” Getting impatient, Sherlock called up his most imperious public school accent. “No, you don’t have to schedule another final fitting. Just add two inches and everyone will be happy. Miss Morstan does not want to be bothered with another fitting.”

 

After the shop rep finally agreed, Sherlock jabbed the OFF button with relish. Time for another call, this one to a dress shop already in his contacts.

“Hello, Sherlock Holmes calling for Mary Morstan. I’m calling about the maid of honor dress for the Morstan-Watson wedding.” Sherlock listened while the shop rep clucked about final fittings, just as on his last call.

“I know the bridesmaids have had their final fittings. Try telling that to Miss Morstan! She has insisted the maid of honor change shoe styles. I’m afraid the new shoes are two inches taller than the ones she wore for the fittings.” Sherlock smiled again while the shop rep went through the same list of complaints as on the last call.

“Right. Yes, I know. No, that will not be necessary. Just add two inches to the length of the dress. No, I told you it won’t be necessary. There’s not time for another final fitting. Just hem the dress and it will be fine.” Just as before, Sherlock’s impatient posh tones settled the argument and the shop rep agreed to make the change.

His bitter grin was even more sardonic as he pressed OFF.


End file.
